Regression: There's a Reason No One Uses it
by happychica
Summary: Black Ghost had bombed them, shot at them, kidnapped them, tormented them, chased them, used just about every trick in the book. But this...well, this just was unreal.


A/N: This spawned from a handful of drabbles set about this same thing. It wanted to be a full story I guess, all grown up. How ironic.

Disclaimer: They're not mine, obviously.

……

The day started like any other. Normal, peaceful, not foreboding in the least. It had to be that way. No decent villain ever decided to attack on dark and dreary days because then the protagonists knew to look for such an attack. No, no, days with beautiful weather and a completely unthreatening atmosphere were the way to go.

She'd been sitting in the same diner for almost a week now. She couldn't really complain, not with the amount of money they'd be paying her. It was a simple job for a obscene payout. Yes, she could hold her tongue. She just wished he'd get them in here already.

As if on cue, he strolled in, laughing and talking animatedly with the very group they'd been sent to target. It wasn't the whole group, but truth be told there wasn't enough of the stuff to go for nine or ten. She'd be lucky to make it stretch to the four he'd managed to round up.

"What's your name, Caroline. Get off your bum and earn your pay. Goodness lass, but you'd think this wasn't what you normally did."

No, it wasn't what she did. Or him, whoever he was. Regardless, she hopped off the stool she'd been on and strolled over to their table, trying not to look as bored as she felt. "What can I get you."

"Coffee, all around I believe." He hadn't waited for the response, clearly as eager as she was to get out of here. But eagerness could ruin this, and she wasn't going to blow this job after waiting so long.

"Just coffee for now?"

He glared at her as the targets nodded, all except the red head. He smiled cheekily. "I'll have a coke…Caroline."

She nodded and moved back to the kitchen. It was a good thing she'd left her conscience behind a while ago. She'd tried just not asking, but word got around and she wasn't stupid. Whoever these people were, guilty or not, they looked nice. Really looked it. For the first time in a while she was hoping this wasn't poison she was dumping in their drinks. They just weren't capable of hurting others, not at this stage of their traitorous ways. If they really were traitors.

Collecting the drinks and distributing the substance as equally as she could, she hurried back to the table. He wasn't sitting with them, seeming to have found something important at the bar. "Here you go, three coffees and a soda. I'll just give him his up there." They nodded and returned to their conversation. She moved to the bar. "Sir."

"It shouldn't be a problem. Sugar, if they use any, will act as both a catalyst and an amplifier, making that amount more than enough."

"You know what they gave us?"

He scowled at her. "Of course not, but I was curious why they gave us so little for so many. I still think they should have given us move, but whatever it is will give these four a heaping amount of the desired effect."

She hesitated, not wanting to be perceived caring. "Is it poison?"

"No." He took his coffee and turned back to the table. "It didn't match any I know. I wouldn't worry." His look softened just slightly before it slipped back into the mask he'd been wearing. "Weak as it sounds, I would have had trouble with poison, too. They're not evil, they're not even like us."

"Let's just get it done and get gone. I can target anyone, but getting to know them…" He nodded and walked back to his seat. Returning the serving tray to it's proper place, she waited to play out the rest of the scene. As soon as they'd paid she'd be gone. Maybe there was a nice assassination in Uzbekistan she could find, or a burglary in Shanghai. Something simple.

"He was nice, I'm sorry he's leaving. It's so hard to make friends when you're on the run."

Joe frowned at Francoise as they drove back to the house. "We don't need friends, we already have some." He smiled at Jet's enthusiastic agreement while Francoise frowned. "Unless you like him." Giggles from the backseat this time, which seemed to bother her more.

"I do not."

"You think he's nice."

"I think you're nice, too. I think most everyone is nice."

"Joe, can we go any faster?" Jet whined. Pyunma nodded next to him, leaning forward to watch the speedometer. "Al's not here to make us behave, let's have some fun."

Joe grinned widely. "Better hold on Francoise!"

"I'm not a baby, go as fast as you want."

Francoise yelped as he floored the peddle, streaking down the road as fast as he could make the car go. It still felt slow to him, his acceleration chip making him move much faster, but Jet and Pyunma were whopping with glee and Francoise was white faced, though smiling shyly. At this rate, they'd be home way early, too. Maybe they could surprise their friends.

For some reason Dr. Gilmore always seemed to pick property that had a body of water running along one side of it. Not that Albert minded, but it was a pattern. They'd been trying to avoid those, and this was a rather noticeable one. The stream did make for a nice view from the back porch, running cleanly through the edge of the woods that surrounded most of the property. It also meant there was never a shortage of animals to leave tracks for 005 to entertain himself with.

The sound of giggles and hushing noises pulled the German from his thoughts. Looking down from the raised deck, he saw four of his teammates trying to sneak up to the house. Trying, and failing rather miserably. Jet didn't seem to be able to stop laughing while Joe was talking, quietly, but none stop. What on Earth?

"Jet?" The American jumped and looked up at him, face splitting into a wide grin. Stepping away from the others, he leaped into the air, flying himself up to the deck and plunking down on the railing next to Albert.

"Al, you noticed us!"

"A little hard to miss. What are you guys doing?"

"We're trying to sneak up on the guys downstairs." Jet put a finger to his lips, stilling grinning. "Don't tell them we're coming, OK?"

"I won't. But you guys might want to be a little quieter." The teen nodded, face taking on a slightly more serious quality.

"What were you doing up here anyways?"

Albert blinked at the sudden change of topic. "Thinking, I suppose."

"About what?"

"The…backyard? The birds? Whatever came to mind, really." What was wrong with his friend, he seemed almost…child like. "Jet, are you feeling alright? It's a little early to be intoxicated, and you don't do that much anymore anyways."

Jet wasn't listening. He was staring upwards, attention caught by a passing flock of some sort of bird. "Ever think about flying?"

Again, abrupt change of subject. "Yes. I have a teammate who can fly after all, it crosses my mind quite a lot. Jet, look at me." The teen's gaze focused back on him. "Are you alright?" Jet blinked, then turned towards the three on the ground.

"Can you guys surprise them on your own? I want to show Al something."

Without waiting for an answer, Jet jumped off the railing, landing behind Albert. "Jet-"

"Don't worry, it'll be fun. I've never dropped you before."

Arms locked around Albert's torso, pulling him back tight against the flyers chest. "Jet, wait, where-" The rest of his sentence died as Jet launched them both into the air. Some part of Albert's mind was wishing Jet had grabbed him from the front - it was most disconcerting not to have anything to hold onto. The rest of him was registering just how far away the ground was and that it was growing distant and a very fast, continuous pace. "Jet."

Leveling off, Jet laughed. "Come on Al, loosen up. I won't let you fall."

"That's not my concern, though not having anything to hold onto isn't really helping." The elder gasped as they tilted, Jet tossing him rather like a doll before hugging him, flying lazily on his back so Albert rested on top of him.

"Better?"

Peering over the teen's shoulder, Albert had to admit it was. Being bound by gravity made one rather found of being able to hold on. "What are we doing?"

"Flying, just like the birds!" Jet's smile would have been infectious, but his tone worried Albert. Jet really did sound like a kid. Not some punk, not whiney, but like a child who was showing something to his parent and expecting praise, or at least indulgence.

"Alright, and where are we going?"

"No where, I just wanted to take you flying. I know how to shoot, but you can't fly."

Albert winced. "No, I can't."

Jet's face turned apologetic. "I'm sorry about your hand." He tightened his grip, turning the hold into a real hug. "I know you don't like it, and it's not cool like flying is."

Albert returned the embrace, feeling very off balance. Looking around, he saw they'd drifted over the larger body of water the stream fed out of. Near the middle was an island, too small to live on, but it could use some exploring. If Jet was going to act like a kid, the logical thing to do was to treat him like one. And talk to Dr. Gilmore the moment they got back.

"Jet, have you explored any of the area around here?" He felt the teen's head shake no, still pressed close from the flight hold turned hug. "Want to see what's on the island down there?" Jet tilted them to see, making Albert grab him rather unnecessarily.

"OK. But not too long or Dr. Gilmore will get mad. Chang too, cause we'll miss dinner."

"Yes, that would be bad."

As Jet flew them downwards, Albert thought that dinner would have to be amazing for him to eat. Jet might be comfortable hurtling towards the Earth, but Albert wasn't. He trusted the kid to catch him, not to land safely.

TBC


End file.
